Shadow Raiders

by Margaret Weis; Robert Krammes

  Sir Ander was staring off into the distance.

  “What is that?” he asked. “Sorry to interrupt, Father, but look to the southeast. There’s something in the sky. I can’t make out what it is . . .”

  He pointed. Father Jacob turned, as did Brother Barnaby.

  “A dragon,” said the monk promptly.

  “God bless young eyes,” said Sir Ander, squinting. “All I can see is a blob.”

  The dragon was flying rapidly and appeared to be heading in their direction.

  “I believe that is our friend from the Abbey of Saint Agnes, Sergeant Hroalfrig,” said Brother Barnaby, as the dragon drew nearer.

  “You are right,” said Father Jacob. “You can see his bad leg drooping. I fear he is the bearer of bad news.”

  “No one ever flies that fast with good news,” Sir Ander agreed.

  The three hastened to the central courtyard, keeping a safe distance from the landing area, waiting for the dragon. As Hroalfrig began his descent, they could see the dragon appeared immensely tired. He was gasping for breath and came down with a bone-rattling crash, pitching forward onto his nose.

  “Are you all right, Sergeant?” Sir Ander hastened forward when there was no danger of being crushed.

  The dragon stared in astonishment. “Sir Ander! Father Jacob! Did not expect. You. Here.”

  “More to the point, Sergeant,” said Sir Ander in concern. “What are you doing here?”

  Hroalfrig managed to raise himself up. He sucked in huge quantities of air, his rib cage heaving. “Came to warn you, sir. Large flight. Demons.”

  “Is the abbey under attack again?”

  Hroalfrig shook his head, neck, and mane. His tail lashed the ground. “Westfirth. Coming here.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Right behind me.”

  Sir Ander saw a dark, black cloud rolling toward them, boiling up out of the Breath.

  “That’s not a storm cloud,” said Brother Barnaby tensely.

  “No,” said Father Jacob. “A cloud of bats. We are too late.”

  Sir Ander stared. “There must be hundreds of them!”

  “Flew as fast as I could manage.... Hroalfrig bowed his head. He was still gasping for breath.

  “We’ll sound the alarm,” said Sir Ander. “Thank you, Hroalfrig. You should take cover in the Bastion—”

  “Cover!” Hroalfrig glared fiercely. “Never. Catch breath. Ready to fight.”

  Sir Ander feared the demons (he could not think of them in any other terms) would make short work of the exhausted dragon, but he didn’t have time to argue. Father Jacob had turned and was running for the stairs that led back down the cliff face. Brother Barnaby was hurriedly gathering up paper and ink and replacing them in the portable desk.

  “Leave it!” Sir Ander ordered.

  “But Father Jacob—”

  “We’ll come back for it!” Sir Ander said urgently. He didn’t like to think what would happen if the demons caught them up here, out in the open. “You can run faster without the desk.”

  Barnaby quite sensibly agreed, though he did take time to close everything securely in the desk and hide it under a bench. He and Sir Ander hurried after Father Jacob, who was clambering over the stairs, not bothering to use them, but sliding and scrambling straight down the side of the cliff. Brother Barnaby, fleet of foot and extremely agile, soon caught up with Father Jacob. Sir Ander eyed their reckless descent and pictured himself trying to emulate them wearing his sword and chain mail and carrying loaded pistols.

  “You go on!” he shouted to Father Jacob. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  Sir Ander began to run down the stairs, taking them two at a time. He glanced at the warships, as he ran. They had not seen the threat or, if they did, they likely thought the cloud was nothing more than an approaching storm. The warships and patrol boats were too busy attempting to enforce the harbor closing to pay attention. Officers on board the gunboats were engaged in shouting matches with the captains of merchant vessels, firing warning shots across the bows of those who tried to slip past.

  The guards in the guard towers were hanging out the windows, watching the altercations; their muskets propped against the walls. He thought of the people of Westfirth, going about their business, soon to be caught up in a horror they could never have foreseen. He thought of his godson, Stephano, and his friends.

  “God help us!” Sir Ander breathed.

  Chapter Forty

  Upon inspection, the Guild of Greater Masonry is fully prepared to affirm that the Westfirth large-bore cannon emplacements surpass the requirements specified. Carved directly into the cliff face and faced with stone and concrete, the addition of multiple layers of strengthening and hardening magical constructs has created a virtually impregnable series of defensive positions. Battlements and towers linking the positions add another layer of defense and support. Any enemy foolish enough to attack Westfirth will quickly find themselves overmatched.

  —Master Francis Malinbrand, Guild of Greater Masonry,

  in a letter to the Rosian Naval Secretary upon

  the completion of defensive fortifications in Westfirth

  ONBOARD THE CLOUD HOPPER, STEPHANO had his spyglass trained on the merchant vessel, Silver Raven. He could see signs that the crew was making the ship ready to sail, and he wondered how much Wallace had paid the captain to try to run the blockade. An immense sum, no doubt. Stephano swept the deck with the spyglass, searching for Rodrigo. Wallace could have simply killed him, left him back there in that house with the other bodies.

  “Rigo’s fine,” said Miri, from her place on the forecastle, steering the boat. She flashed Stephano a reassuring smile. “He’s Rigo.”

  “That’s what worries me. He must know we’re searching for him,” said Stephano. “He could give us a sign. Sail closer, Miri. Maybe he hasn’t seen us.”

  “Wallace knows the Cloud Hopper, too,” Miri pointed out.

  “Bah! He won’t notice us,” said Stephano. He grinned. “We’re selling calvados, like all the rest of these boats out here.”

  The harbor was surprisingly busy, considering the blockade. Ships were being permitted to enter, just not to leave, which meant that in some cases, arriving vessels had no place to dock. They were now lined up in the harbor, waiting for ships in port to leave so that they could unload their goods. The harbormaster was frantically urging vessels that had been unloaded to vacate the dockyards to allow others to enter. Most furious captains were not in a mood to cooperate and refused, which meant a good deal of confusion in the harbor and on the docks.

  Trundlers, ever quick to take advantage of a situation, filled their houseboats with food, water, and calvados—especially calvados—and sailed around from ship to ship, selling their wares to stranded sailors. Merchant captains were notoriously lax when it came to discipline and they could not keep their crews from trading with the Trundlers. Now many of the sailors on board the merchant ships were roaring drunk. Collisions between the hundreds of ships massed in the harbor were inevitable, even if the sailors had been sober. Fortunately, none of the incidents were serious: masts splintered, balloons punctured, the lines of two ships becoming entangled.

  The Cloud Hopper joined the Trundler Calvados Armada and they were now just one more gaily colored Trundler vessel among many others selling the apple brandy. Miri navigated the Hopper expertly in and under and over and around the various ships floating in the harbor to bring the vessel as near the Silver Raven as she thought was wise. She kept the tall masts and sails of another vessel between her ship and the Silver Raven as cover. Sailors on board the ship, seeing the Trundler boat, yelled and waved for Miri to come closer.

  “Captain! Look!” Dag called.

  He had his spyglass out, was keeping watch. Stephano had lowered his glass to rub his eyes. He lifted the glass again.

  Henry Wallace—the man they had known as Russo—was standing on the deck of the Silver Raven. Beside him was Rodrigo, unmistakable in his lavende
r coat. Wallace was holding a pistol to Rodrigo’s head. Rodrigo, seeing them, lifted his hand in a light and airy wave. Stephano swore and lowered the glass.

  “Dip the flag, Gythe. Let Wallace know we get his goddam message.”

  Gythe lowered the Cloud Hopper’s flag up and down. Sir Henry waved his hat in return and shoved Rodrigo into a deck chair where a sailor stood guard over him. Sir Henry went to speak to the captain.

  Taking advantage of the confusion in the harbor, the Silver Raven set sail. Undoubtedly the captain had told the harbormaster he was giving up his place at the docks, and no one paid attention to the Raven as she left, maneuvering carefully to avoid running into another ship. The merchant ship would be safe until she tried to run. Then the shore batteries would turn their cannons and their magically guided rockets on her. The navy ships would fire a warning shot across her bows and then, if she kept sailing, ship and shore batteries would both fire in earnest.

  The merchant vessel was considerably larger than the Cloud Hopper. Designed for long voyages into the deep Breath, the two-decker had two large masts that supported twice the number of balloons as the Trundler vessel. The Raven carried a crew of at least forty men, but, being a merchant vessel, she was armed only with swivel guns which were used to fend off pirates. The Cloud Hopper was more maneuverable and more heavily armed. Stephano wondered what Wallace was going to do. Was this an attempt to flee made in desperation or did he have some sort of plan?

  He has a plan, thought Stephano gloomily. He knows I’ll urge the navy to let him go so that he won’t harm Rigo. Of course, once he’s escaped, he’ll kill my friend.

  “Keep on him,” Stephano told Miri.

  “What do you think the navy will do?” Miri asked.

  “Knowing the navy,” said Stephano bitterly. “Nothing.”

  During the time required for Miri and Gythe to prepare the Cloud Hopper for sailing, Stephano had dispatched an urgent message to the naval flagship, the Royal Lion, one of King Alaric’s new balloonless ships that relied on the Blood of God, the liquefied form of the Breath, to remain afloat. Stephano had used his name and had even gone to the extreme of invoking his mother’s name to tell the navy that the Silver Raven was carrying extremely valuable cargo. He pleaded with the admiral not to fire, but to attempt to capture the Silver Raven and take all the passengers into custody.

  He was not very hopeful the navy would agree. Stephano had few friends in the Royal Navy anymore, especially after the incident at the Estaran fortress and his duel with Hastind, the man who had ordered his guns to fire on Lady Cam. Unfortunately, Hastind was now the Commander of the Westfirth Squadron and the Royal Lion was his ship. Hastind would certainly not be inclined to do any favors for Captain de Guichen. Stephano’s only hope was Dubois—the man he’d shot. The grand bishop’s agent could order the navy to try to seize the vessel, take Wallace alive. But Dubois could also order that the Silver Raven be blown out of the skies.

  “We could stop the ship, sir,” Dag suggested. “Shoot off a spar, puncture the balloons . . .”

  Stephano shook his head. “Wallace would kill Rigo.”

  “Again, sir, I am sorry,” said Dag heavily. “This is my fault.”

  Stephano clapped his friend on his shoulder and managed a reassuring smile. “It’s nice to know I’m not the only person in this boat who screws up. Run out the cannons, make sure they’re loaded and ready to fire.”

  Gythe gestured to the hull of the Cloud Hopper and made signs to her sister, who translated. “Gythe says she has replaced the magical defenses. She and Rigo did it together. He showed her how to lay the spells properly this time.”

  Gythe shifted her worried gaze to the Silver Raven. They could see Rodrigo on deck. His lavender coat showed up well against the backdrop of the gray cliffs.

  “She wants to know if Rigo will be all right,” said Miri.

  “He’ll be fine,” said Stephano, wishing he meant it. He added briskly, “Dag’s going to run out the guns. Gythe, you’d best take the Doctor to the storeroom.”

  “What’s the point of running out the guns?” Miri asked, as her sister went to corner the cat, who knew where he was headed apparently, for he ran underneath a deck chair. “Wallace knows you won’t shoot his ship.”

  “The captain of the Silver Raven doesn’t know that,” said Stephano. He paused, then added, “And then there’s the naval ships.”

  Miri stared at him, aghast. “You’re planning to take on a naval warship?”

  “I won’t let anyone harm Rigo, Miri,” Stephano said. He turned to face her. “But you have the final say. This is your boat. If you don’t want to risk it, I understand. Sail over to shore and let me get off. I’ll find some other way—”

  “How dare you?” Miri flared.

  “How dare I what?” Stephano asked, startled.

  “How dare you accuse me of letting someone harm Rigo?” Miri wiped away her tears and blinked her eyes, trying all the while to steer.

  Stephano was taken aback. “Miri, I didn’t say anything of the kind . . . I just wanted you to know . . .”

  “Get off my bridge, Captain de Guichen,” said Miri, through clenched teeth. “Go help Dag. Or are you going to get rid of him as well? I suppose you figure you’ll take on a sixty-four-gun warship single-handed!”

  “Miri, you know I didn’t mean it—”

  “Go!” Miri ordered.

  But instead of going, Stephano put his arm around her and hugged her close.

  “Thank you,” he said huskily.

  “Get along with you!” Miri snapped. “Let me do my job before we smash into that trawler up ahead.”

  Stephano lifted the glass to his eye to have another look at the Silver Raven. Stephano was armed and wearing his heavy flight coat and light chain shirt. The dragon pistol was in its holster on his right side, opposite his rapier. Loaded muskets stood in a weapon stand against the ship’s rail. Dag wore his breastplate that still bore the burn marks from the demons’ ambush. He had a pair of pistols tucked into his belt. His blunderbuss and his boarding ax were in a nearby weapon stand.

  The Hopper and the Silver Raven were both coming up on the Old Fort, leaving the dockyards and the mass of ships behind. Apparently, no one aboard any of the blockade ships had noticed the Silver Raven trying to slip out. The ship glided along, hugging the shoreline, with the Cloud Hopper in dogged pursuit.

  “He’s sinking into the Breath,” said Stephano suddenly, alarmed.

  “He’s leaking air on purpose,” said Miri. “The captain is reducing the lift of the ship’s balloons; that’s why they’re flattening out. Raven is slowly losing altitude, hoping no one will notice. He’s going to hide himself in the mists.”

  Miri gave a lopsided smile. “We’ve done that ourselves a time or two, as I recall. It’s not a pleasant way to travel by any means, but then he only has to stay down there until he’s well away from the patrol ships.”

  “Keep with him, Miri,” said Stephano.

  “I’ll stay as close as I can, but once he dives down, I’ll lose him, Stephano,” said Miri. “You remember what it’s like in the deep fog. I wouldn’t be able to see you if you were right next to me, much less try to keep track of another ship!”

  “This is why we had dragons, damn it!” said Stephano, slamming his fist onto the railing. “They could find Raven, fog or no fog. Look at Commander Hastind in that great bloody battleship sitting out there, blind as a bat.”

  “I could fire the swivel gun, sir,” said Dag. “Draw the navy’s attention.”

  “And they would fire on the Raven,” said Stephano.

  “There he goes!” Miri called urgently.

  The Silver Raven’s captain suddenly let all the air out of his forward balloons and dropped the prow of his ship. At the same time he pushed his airscrews to full, propelling the vessel into the mist and out of sight.

  “Miri, follow him!” Stephano ordered, but even as he said the words, he knew it was hopeless. Once the Silver
Raven was deep in the fog, the captain could sail off in any direction and leave them behind, with no way of knowing where he went.

  Miri took the Cloud Hopper down as rapidly as she dared. Gythe had returned from stashing the Doctor in the storeroom (they could hear his angry yowls) and she and Dag and Stephano leaned over the rail, peering into the thickening mists until their eyes ached. Suddenly Gythe seized hold of Stephano and jabbed her finger.

  “Look there!” Dag cried at the same time. He was leaning over the rail at a perilous angle, holding onto a line and peering into the Breath. “A firefly!”

  “And it’s lavender,” said Stephano, smiling.

  The small light shone palely, a tiny beacon guiding them through the Breath. The light was far below them. The Silver Raven had gone down rapidly.

  “I hope I don’t crash into them,” Miri muttered, adjusting her course, letting the Cloud Hopper fall through the mists. “If I do, we’re both finished.”

  The lavender light continued to glow. Stephano strained his eyes to see and his ears to hear when out of the mists below them came the sound of shouts and terrified cries and a bang.

  “That was a pistol shot,” said Dag.

  Stephano’s brow furrowed. “What the—”

  Below in the mists, green light flared. Gythe gave a sudden gasp and a moan and backed up against a mast, cowering in terror. They could hear muffled voices and the sounds of gunfire.

  “Get out of here, Miri!” Stephano cried. “Take her up! Fast as you can! Dag—the swivel gun!”

  Orange eyes glowed in the mists. A bat flew past the ship, the speed of its flight shredding the mists. Green fire struck the Cloud Hopper; the boat’s defenses flared blue. Gythe cried out in pain and sank to the deck.

  Miri’s fingers flew across the helm. Magical energy flowed into the balloons and the wings’ lift tanks. The smaller, light Cloud Hopper soared up through the mists toward the clear, sunlit sky above. Dag was manning a swivel gun, but, as he said in frustration, he couldn’t be expected to hit a goddam blur.

  The lavender light had gone out, but they didn’t need Rodrigo’s signal anymore. The Silver Raven was also rising up swiftly out of the Breath. They could see the tops of her masts and the balloons, now fully inflated. Stephano and Dag both crouched tensely at the swivel guns, searching for the demons on their gigantic bats.